


Good Omens Drabbles

by victory_cookies



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: M/M, some good ol ineffable husbands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:49:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25104985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victory_cookies/pseuds/victory_cookies
Summary: Some old GO shortfics of mine
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 7





	1. Browsing

Crowley rolled his eyes as Aziraphale pulled another book off of the dusty shelf.

“Maybe you’d enjoy this one!” the angel suggested.

Crowley sighed. “I’ve already told you, I have no interest in reading a dull novel about…” He waved his hands. “…whatever the heaven humans write about these days.”

Aziraphale frowned, sliding the book back into its spot. “Now, Crowley, I’m sure we can find something that you’d like! We just need to look harder.” He hurried over to a different set of bookshelves. “Now, what would you fancy? Something on snakes, perhaps? Or…”

“Mmm, well, snakes are…” He paused as Aziraphale ran his fingers along the spines of the books, intently looking for a suitable novel. “I… I suppose snakes would do.”

“A-ha!” Aziraphale slid a book off the shelf and handed it to Crowley. “There you go, my dear. This one’s a marvellous read, and it features not one, but _two_ snakes!”

Crowley took the book and blew the dust off the cover. “I… thanks, angel.” He leaned back against another bookshelf and cracked open the book. “You wouldn’t happen to have a bookmark, would you?”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “Oh, I, uh, of course I do! Let me fetch you one.” He ran off to another room.

Crowley’s lips quirked in a smile, and he looked up from the book to watch Aziraphale root the shop. “Found one yet?” he yelled.

“Not quite!” Aziraphale replied, pulling open a drawer. “Just a moment, I’m sure I have one around here somewhere…”

Crowley shook his head and looked back down at the book.

It wasn’t actually half-bad.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> obsidiancreates asked: “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?” with Ineffable Husbands, but only if you'd like to of course. I'm sending in a few for variety of choice.

Crowley leaned back into the soft couch cushions, relaxing as he watched Aziraphale busy himself tidying the bookshop. The angel whistled quietly to the tune coming from the gramophone as he dusted the bookshelves.

Crowley grabbed the half-full bottle of wine beside him and took a swig. There was a pleasant buzzing in his head, and he sighed contentedly, setting it down next to another, already empty bottle.

Aziraphale looked over at him, momentarily pausing his dusting. “Are you alright, Crowley?” he asked.

“Eh?” Crowley blinked and nodded, rubbing his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, never better… hey, is that a new bow tie?”

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up, and he set down his duster. “Why, I was hoping you’d notice! I though it might be time for a small change.” He straightened it, glowing with pride. “Does— does it look good on me?”

Crowley raised his eyebrows, peering over the top of his glasses. His lips quirked in approval. “Good? It looks great!” He shrugged and pulled off his glasses, beginning to gesture wildly with them in hand. “I mean, not to say you don’t always look great, because you absolutely do, but the bow tie is a nice chance, like you said. You look—” He paused. “You look marvellous as always, angel. Even more marvellous, actually.”

He took another long drink of wine to Aziraphale’s confused silence. 

“You think that I always look… marvellous?” the angel asked quietly. “Thank you, but what prompted you to…” Suddenly, realization crossed his face. “Are you— have you been flirting with me, Crowley?”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Six thousand years,” he muttered. “And you finally noticed.” He stood up, slipping his sunglasses back on. “Well, I suppose I should get going.” he announced, louder. He shivered for a moment, sobering up. “It’s been a pleasure, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale stood in stunned silence as the demon began to make his way towards the door.

“See you later, my angel.”

With a ring of the bell of above the door, Crowley was gone.


	3. Bicycle Race

“Bicycling?” Crowley scoffed. “Why would we go bicycling? Seems like an awfully tedious way to get places. Besides, I have a car! We don’t need to bike anywhere.”

Aziraphale shook his head and held up two helmets. “We’re not trying to ‘get places’, Crowley. It’s for fun!” he explained. “I thought that we could bike down by the water for a bit and then make our way out to the countryside.”

“So we’d just be… peddling around? Aimlessly?”

“The aim is to enjoy yourself! Now let’s go.” Aziraphale put his helmet on and handed the other to Crowley. “We wouldn’t want the sun setting on us, but at the rate you’re going, it will.”

As they walked outside, Crowley’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Aziraphale, I don’t even own a bike. How am I going to—”

He stepped out the door to see two bikes leaning against the wall, one a pale blue and the other a sleek black.

Aziraphale smiled. “You do now.”

* * *

The two of them slowly peddled down the path along the edge of the water. Ducks floated along beside them, and Crowley nearly ran over one as it waddled across the pavement to join its companions. It quacked at him angrily.

“You were the one who got in the way, you stupid bird!” he yelled at it, swerving widely.

Aziraphale laughed, slowing down to coast beside Crowley. “Crowley… when was the last time you rode a bicycle?” he asked, looking at the demon’s slightly tilted helmet and the slight wobble in his wheels as he tried to stay steady.

“1973…” muttered Crowley.

“Pardon, when?”

“1973,” he repeated, raising his voice a little. “I have not properly been out for a bike ride since 1973…”

“Well,” Aziraphale chuckled. “I suppose that it’s good that we’re doing it right now!”

Crowley shrugged as best as he could still gripping the handlebars. “I suppose it is.”

* * *

They eventually rode into the countryside, the city and suburbs fading into long roads stretched between expansive fields like a snake through tall grass.

The two of them chatted as they cruised, laughing and joking and making fun of the head offices. Crowley nearly ran over another bird. It chirped at him angrily, but he just kept riding. Birds were always so whiny, he realized.

Cool wind blew past them, and Aziraphale sighed contentedly. “See, Crowley, isn’t this nice?”

Crowley nodded. “Yeah, I guess. It’s been alrig—” Aziraphale’s face began to fall. “—very enjoyable. I’ve had a grand time.” He shifted the bike into another gear and looked back over at the angel. “Now, how about a race?”

Aziraphale looked confused. “A race?”

“Yeah! You know, where we both go as fast as we can and the fastest—”

“I know what a race is, Crowley!” Aziraphale spluttered. “But why would you—”

“On your mark, get set, go!” the demon interrupted, taking off.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale hurried after him. Their coats whipped behind them as they both sped down the winding road, peddling frantically. “Come back here this instant!”

Crowley laughed triumphantly. “Never!”

Aziraphale eventually managed to pull up beside him. “You had a head start!” he complained, panting slightly. “That’s not fair… now, please, could we slow down?”

Crowley’s eyes flashed behind his sunglasses. “I’m a demon, angel. Fair isn’t in my vocabulary.” Suddenly, his bike began to glow slightly, and he pulled ahead “And neither is slow down!”

“Ah, alright, then.” Aziraphale’s eyes narrowed in determination, and his own bike began to glow. He sped forward towards Crowley’s bike. “You’re not going to win this that easily!”

“Watch me, angel!”

The two of them kept speeding down the road as the sun began to set, neither one of them remaining in the lead for much more than a minute at a time, laughing as they went.

Neither of them were quite sure who won.


	4. Crêpes

Crowley had worked much harder than he would ever care to admit.

Every day he had practiced, intent on learning to do it perfectly, manually, with no magic involved whatsoever (it took probably more focus for him to not accidentally magic something while doing it than the actual doing; unfortunately for Crowley, it had become a matter of principle. No magic, only practice).

He made sure he had the best recipe. He make sure that he could perform flawlessly. He made sure that he was ready.

He was going to make Aziraphale proud.

* * *

The bell above Aziraphale’s door tinkled quietly.

The angel turned around from his reshelving of some fantasy novels. “Why, hello, Crowley! Good to see you!”

Crowley smiled as sauntered into the shop. “Hello there, angel! How’s it going?”

“Quiet well, thank you,” Aziraphale said. “How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good… you got any plans for lunch today, angel?”

Aziraphale shook his head. “Not currently… would you like to go out for lunch? I’m sure we could—”

“No, no, I’ve got a different idea.” Crowley lifted a small box onto a nearby table. “How would you like some crêpes?”

“Crêpes?” Aziraphale’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Where did you get them? The last good crêpe place around here closed quite a whil—”

“I made them,” Crowley announced proudly.

The angel’s eyes lit up. “You made us crêpes? Crowley, dear, that’s so lovely!”

Crowley beamed and opened up the box, revealing some utterly delectable-looking crêpes. He handed them to Aziraphale. “Have a taste.”

Aziraphale quickly miracled himself a fork and took a bite. His face melted in content. “Oh my goodness, Crowley, these are delightful!”

Crowley grinned widely. “They’re made one-hundred percent by hand… no magic, just love. Best recipe I could find.”

“They’re some of the best I’ve ever had, my dear.” Aziraphale took another bite. “You need to try some too!”

Crowley shook his head and held up his hands. “Oh, no, I’m good. I’m not hungry and you already know my stance on eati—”

Aziraphale handed him a fork. “Do it for me, Crowley? A chef should always taste his dish.”

Crowley looked contemplative, but Aziraphale flashed him a loving, pleading expression, and he let out a sigh. “Fine,” he muttered, biting back a smile. He dug in.

They really were delightful.


	5. Waltz

Neither Aziraphale nor Crowley had ever claimed to be good at dancing, but as the soft waltz music floated through the air around them, they couldn’t help but try.

It was simply a matter of getting the steps down. One step forward, then one to the side, then backwards. _One, two, three._ A rise, then a fall, all in time with the quiet melody of the song. Simple. _Up, up, down… one, two, three…_

_One, two, three…_

Aziraphale’s coat felt soft beneath Crowley’s hand, his fingers pressed against the angel’s waist to hold him close as he guided him around the floor. He leaned in closer as they waltzed around (albeit a tad clumsily), breathing in the scent of his cologne.

_One, two, three…_

Aziraphale could see the hidden happiness in Crowley’s expression as they danced. Lips quirked upwards, eyes bright with joy. His heart then fluttered when he felt a wave of love as the demon attempted to pull them into a twirl

_One, two, three…_

Together, the two of them drifted across the dance floor, hands locked together as they stepped carefully* in what was most definitely a waltz, and not a half-bad one at that. As the final chords of the music faded out, they slowly came to a halt in the middle of the room.

“I thought you couldn’t dance,” whispered Crowley, leaning into Aziraphale’s shoulder.

Aziraphale grinned. “Well, I suppose that once you know how to gavotte, you can do just about anything,” he replied quietly.

Crowley chuckled and then looked up. “Thanks for the dance, angel.”

“It was my pleasure.” He placed a brief, tender kiss on his lips, and then squeezed his hand. “Let’s do this again sometime.”

* * *

*As hard as they tried, though, Crowley did manage to step on Aziraphale’s shoes at least once, and Aziraphale forgot which direction to go thrice (though neither of them would admit this).


End file.
